


Kingdom of Shattered Dreams

by MirwenAnareth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Character Development, Drama, Drarry, Dystopia, F/M, Female Draco Malfoy, Friendship, Gender Bender, Hogwarts, M/M, Melancholy, Mystery, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, School Life, Surreal, Twisted Lore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 15:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17246405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirwenAnareth/pseuds/MirwenAnareth
Summary: In a world where the Old Serpent rules, in a world where a best friend would stab you in the back, Harry’s only real ally is his nemesis – Draco Malfoy. Together they have to find a way out. Together they need to uncover the truth that turned their world into a twisted fairytale.





	Kingdom of Shattered Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that I am disregarding the existence of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child and basically anything that comes after the end of the Battle for Hogwarts in the story.

_Things aren’t always what they appear. To me, Draco Malfoy was my arch-enemy. What I didn’t realize is that he was also my best friend. Someone who constantly reminded me of my limits and challenged me to push through them. Someone who was not afraid to say the things I hated to hear. On that day, things changed. He became a pillar I could lean on, a willow that would listen when I had something to say. And the one I considered my best friend became my arch-enemy._

\-- Harry Potter

* * *

Amidst the falling rain, there was a clinking knock on the window. In the flickering light of the single burning candle, Harry could see an owl beak glisten, steadily demanding his attention. He rose from the creaky armchair, cracking his stiffened back. Who in their right mind would want something at such an ungodly hour?

The window flew open and an angry barn owl made its way to the chair, entirely soaking the upholstery. Harry untied the message from its leg. The paper had been enchanted with a water-repellent spell. It was clean and perfectly smooth, bearing the shining wand seal of the Ministry of Magic. That could only mean work or trouble. Or both, which was usually the case in his line of work. He sighed as he broke the seal.

_Harry,_

_We have an urgent matter we need to consult with you. Please, report to the Department of Mysteries at once._

_Ernie_

_P.S. Brace yourself. Malfoy’s on the job with you._

Ernie Macmillan was one of the few people in the Ministry with the authority to bypass standards and write letters like an actual human being. Harry snorted at the added note. Of course Draco was on the job with him. Draco was always on the job with him, and always just as annoying as ever, even if a bit friendlier than before. Harry pondered whoever found it funny to keep the two of them paired up. It was… inefficient to say the least. Draco Malfoy had never received any proper Auror training and only helped the Ministry out of his good will. Nevertheless, a job was a job and it needed to be done.

“Sorry, little one, I’m afraid you’ll have to make it on your own,” he told the owl as he tossed it into the night. It returned the favor with a sulky sputter before fading beneath the curtains of falling water.

Down at the entrance corridor, a coat-stand in the shape of a butler clad in a formal gown bent to hand Harry his coat, wooden lips quirking in an obligatory smile. He nodded his thanks to the soulless thing before disapparating.

The Ministry was quiet save for the incessant crackling of the fires connecting it to the Floo Network. The sound of his footsteps resonated through the halls, making Harry nervous. As he walked through the corridors and let the magical lift take him into the depths of the building, he recalled the first time he had visited the place. It wasn’t a happy memory. He had been nearly expelled, having saved himself and his cousin Dudley from a pair of Dementors. Harry wondered what his life would have become if Albus Dumbledore had not helped him clear his name back then.

 _Probably short,_ he thought to himself sardonically as he exited the lift.

The Department of Mysteries had changed over the time he had worked for the Ministry. The walls were now pure marble, hosting a series of images depicting famous seers who had contributed to the local collection of prophecies. The collection had grown thin in the last Wizarding War. Its remnants were now kept in the Crystal Hall where Harry was headed.

“So,” the greeting voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt beamed as he entered the brightly lit room, “our star is here. Hope the day… well, actually, the night, is finding you well, Harry.” At his side, Draco Malfoy welcomed him with his usual smirk, perhaps just a touch less smug than it used to be.

Harry raised a brow. “To what do I owe the honor, Minister?”

“Oh please, drop the pleasantries. I was just explaining to Draco here a few things about this strange device.” He stepped aside to reveal a mechanism which seemed to consist of a flask with silvery fog connected to a chain of mirrors. A number of images kept flashing through them in such a speed that Harry could hardly catch a glimpse. They were blurry images of people, all wearing the same desperate expression before changing into rigidly smiling ghosts.

“What is this? Some sort of twisted experiment? And where is Ernie?”

“Mungo’s,” Kingsley uttered grimly. “You Aurors are a terrible sort, you know that? Took us several hours to make him confess he’d been wounded. A minute longer and we could have carried him out on a bier. He did his job perfectly, left a full report and all that, but he should’ve thought ahead. If he died on us, there’d be no one to ask. So please, think of that when you’re on the job, will you?”

“Sure. So what happened? What is this thing?”

Kingsley cleared his throat. “Draco, would you…”

“No,” came the curt answer. “Not gonna do your job.”

“Ah, well… you see… the truth is, we don’t know.”

“Erm…” Harry raised a brow as he approached the device. It emitted strange, milk-white light. Looking at the flask, Harry was reminded of the Pensieve and the thoughts that filled it. The light from the innumerous crystalline lamps in the room faded when he closed the distance, but he was quickly pulled back by the firm grip of Kingsley’s hand.

“Don’t. We don’t know yet what it does. Do you remember the murder of that Squib two months back?”

“Indeed. The whole Ministry was talking about it. It was the first one since Voldemort…”

“Please, not the name. Well, anyway, we all thought we’d caught the killer. We had solid evidence, no Aurors were needed, court committee was unanimous, all’s well that ends well and all that stuff. Guess what happened a week ago?”

“Another murder?”

“Not just that. We found the same killer on the site and his cell in Azkaban was empty.”

Harry frowned, pointing an accusing finger at the Minister. “That’s the first time I hear about this.”

“Yes, well… imagine what kind of uproar it would cause if it leaked out that someone actually managed to break out of Azkaban with the new system in effect. No one but the involved parties knew. But there’s more. This time, the victim was the old Mundungus Fletcher. Killed by the very same person. Again.”

Harry remembered Mundungus Fletcher well. A thief and a slimeball, the kind of person who would cheat a beggar of the last coin if it came to that. A murder was a murder, but Harry could not bring himself to feel any remorse for the man.

“Has there been any interrogation?”

“Many. All we get is silence. We don’t know who he is or where he came from. Nothing.”

“Hm. Let me at him, he’ll squeak like a pig when I’m done with him.” Draco Malfoy crossed his arms over his chest, smirk still playing on his lips. Harry rolled his eyes.

“We don’t do that anymore, Draco,” Kingsley reminded him softly, “and it would be pointless. He disappeared again.” He sighed as he wiped a trail of sweat from his forehead. “Fletcher was freshly out of the prison but managed to rob a grave just before he died. And, well… I don’t think you’ll like the rest.”

“Yes?”

“It was the Dumbledore crypt.”

Harry stared at him for a moment, trying to determine whether the Minister was joking. Kingsley’s face only reflected concern, and not even the observing Draco seemed amused. “Mundungus Fletcher? That sleazy little coward, stealing from the Dumbledore crypt?”

“Unfortunately.”

“And? What did he find there?”

“We don’t know. Whatever it was, it’s not there anymore.”

“There’s a lot of ‘we don’t knows’ in the formula,” Harry sighed. “So what are we supposed to do here?”

“Listen, Harry. There’s a reason we called you and Draco specifically. Despite the many unknowns, we believe this case to be connected to You-Know-Who. The two of you are trustworthy experts on this.”

“Well, thanks for expressing your confidence in me, but in case you haven’t noticed, Voldemort, and yes, I will use his real name,” he added as both of his companions winced, “is gone. It has been…”

“… three years, I know. And you haven’t even passed the First Examination, you reminded me about a hundred times. Nevertheless, there are signs, one of them being this.” Kingsley pointed at the device. At a closer look, Harry could distinguish the same writing at the bottom of each mirror.

_Lost wishes be found anew. Elucidate the Riddle and you will find the truth._

A sign was engraved next to it. One that Harry remembered quite well.

“Is that…”

“The Deathly Hallows,” Kingsley nodded.

“You do know that someone could just be pulling a prank on us?” Draco commented dryly. “Jumping to conclusions is one thing I’d rather avoid here.”

Harry opened his mouth to counter him but closed it again. For once, he had to agree. His eyes met with Draco’s and he saw something other than the usual derision. The blonde Slytherin was deep in thought and from the icy grey eyes surfaced uneasiness that had nothing to do with the fact he had to go on a mission with Harry. No, he was afraid. Harry understood. For Draco Malfoy, the return of the Dark Lord would mean more than just terror. It would bring humiliation and detestation of his own person. Despite their routine quarrels, Harry had no doubt that this time, Draco would stand proud for those who deserved it.

“We shall investigate it,” Harry said evasively. “Anything else we should know?”

From the tiniest of his pockets, Kingsley withdrew a paper roll so thick the whole collection of Gilderoy Lockhart’s books seemed liked a poor excuse of literature in comparison. Harry smiled. Even after fourteen years spent almost entirely in the wizarding world, these things still managed to astonish him.

“Ernie’s report. I have not read it, mind you, so don’t bombard me with questions. Can I leave you two alone now and trust that you will not kill each other while I’m gone?”

“I might break a leg or two of Potter’s,” Draco shrugged. “But who needs limbs when you got your own fame to ride on?”

Harry smirked. Kingsley gave the two of them a pat on the shoulder before dropping a curtsy. “Be seeing you around. Report as soon as you find something.”

“Right,” the two of them said in unison. A moment later, they were left in the company of each other and the strange device.

“So, what do you think this is?” Draco asked, pointing at the apparatus.

“No idea,” Harry admitted truthfully. Pulling out his wand, he spread the paper in the thin air before him to have a view of the whole report. When his eyes fell on it, he could only gape. Beside him, he heard Draco snort.

“Sure Macmillan got the right one?”

“Revelio,” said Harry, pointing his wand at the paper. It stayed blank like a freshly obliviated mind. He shook his head. “Well, this certainly helps.”

“What a bunch of troll dung. Revelio,” repeated Draco, this time pointing his own wand at the device. Nothing happened. Or, to be precise, nothing happened with the device. The spell shattered into a cloud of dust, sliding harmlessly around the device as though it was enclosed within an invisible orb.

“Did you see that?”

Harry circled it, studying every detail of it. The mirrors were smooth, reminiscent of water surface. Harry had a strange feeling he had seen something like that before, but could not recall where or when. On closer inspection, he noticed they were framed by tiny slithering snakes made in silver. More signs of Voldemort. But the man was dead. What could possibly remain of his legacy?

“Engorgio,” he pointed his wand at it out of curiosity. More magical dust.

“Diminuendo,” tried Draco, bringing about the same result.

“So the thing has an unidentifiable barrier. Funny that nobody noticed when they carried it here,” Harry remarked, circling again. Watching the snake heads on the mirrors, an idea occurred to him.

“Reveal your secrets,” he said in the Parseltongue. The silver heads glistened in the light of the Crystal Hall, but stayed motionless. Only the foggy substance inside rolled about lazily, like the sea water on a windless night.

“This can creep me out at any time, and I’m a Slytherin,” Draco protested. “Well, looks like we’ll have to face this thing head on. Let’s see what it does when I…”

“No!” Harry grabbed Draco’s hand before it reached the closest mirror. “You heard Kingsley. We shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what, Potter? Pissed in your pants, have you? No wonder I never get anything done with you. Granger has a terrible influence on people.”

“Oh shut it. Efficient does not equal reckless. Let’s just take it one step at a time.”

“Fine. Any other ideas?”

“Well, that’s…”

“Right.”

With a shake of his head, Draco turned back to the device. Harry held his breath as his companion looked into the mirror. He stared in it intently, making Harry wonder how he can stand the flashing images. Draco’s face puckered in a frown.

“What the…” he turned the device to face another mirror, then the next one, and the one after it. With each turn, more and more wrinkles creased his pale face.

“What do you see?”

Draco ignored him, fully absorbed in the images in the mirror. He kept turning, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Draco? What do you see?” Harry reached for him. Draco kept staring like possessed, slim fingers clutching tightly the edges of the mirrors. For a split second, Harry worried that they might break under the pressure or that his partner might lose his mind. None of it happened.

The moment he touched him, the world went spinning. Harry caught a glimpse of his own image in the mirror, steady and unmoving, but somewhat different. Before he could study it, everything blurred and turned into a cacophony of smudged colors. He felt as though he was being turned upside down. Trying to catch his breath, he gripped Draco’s upper arm as tight as he could. The foggy substance swirled and enveloped them, drawing the air from their lungs and launching them into the unknown. And then, just as Harry closed his eyes to prepare for the worst, they were tossed on the soaked ground, sinking in the mud. When Harry finally caught his breath, he felt the sting of the raindrops bite into his skin. He opened his eyes and frowned at the murky greyness around.

“Uh, the bloody thing was a portkey?” he sputtered as he groped about to find his glasses. “Where are we? Have we been there all night?” He was almost scared to hear the answer. He felt a memory surface, reminding him of the night he had lost a friend, Cedric, to Voldemort’s cruel schemes just after being teleported to a place he had not seen before.

“Doubt it, because the bloody thing is nowhere to be found. Portkeys don’t just disappear, as far as I know.”

The voice beside him was high-pitched and melodic. Harry found his glasses but his hand froze in midair. Even without them he could see that there was a girl sitting next to him, long white-gold locks of hair falling to her waist. She had the same icy grey eyes as Draco Malfoy and the bottle-green robe he had been wearing hung loosely from her shoulders. He stared at her and let his hand sink back to the ground.

“What?” she asked, brows knitting in the familiar theatrical frown. “What… what happened to my voice?”

“Seriously?” Despite the precarious situation, Harry struggled to hide his amusement. This he would not have imagined in his wildest dreams.

“Seriously _what_?”

“It’s more like… what happened to your _person_?” A corner of his mouth twitched to the utter irritation of Draco the girl.

“Nothing happened to my… Merlin’s beard. Do you have a mirror?” Draco slid his hands along his own body, finding the chest. He froze, turning pleading eyes to Harry.

Harry waved his wand and created a reflecting circle in the air. With a smile playing on his lips, he sent it to Draco. His… her face turned a shade even paler than usual as she looked at the feminine reflection.

“Blasted boggarts, what happened to me?!”

“Well, obviously, our enemy has a pretty good sense of humor.” Harry was openly cackling. Draco Malfoy as a woman? Priceless. “That’s even better than the ferret.”

“And hopefully even shorter,” Draco grumbled. “Where are we?”

“No idea. Let me… what?” Harry blinked. The image blurred before his eyes as he put on his glasses. He removed them again, looking up at Draco with question in his eyes. He saw every detail of the girl before him. The long eyelashes crowning her eyes, the curve of her lips, the silver buckles on her robe that had unfastened on the loose fabric. Harry let out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “What just happened? My eyesight has changed.”

“Not just that. Your scar is gone and you look… well, different. And maybe younger.”

Harry stared into the reflecting circle. Draco was right. Whoever the person in the mirror was, it was not the Harry Potter he knew.

“You don’t suppose that thing did it, do you?”

“I’m quite certain it did. Those mirrors… they showed me exactly this face.” Draco patted her cheek. She stared into the ground and Harry knew there was something she was not telling him. He looked around, as if the answer should lie around.

“We’d better find out where we are,” he decided. “This place looks familiar.”

They scanned the landscape. Timbered mountains surrounded a wide valley, encompassing a vast lake. A slope rose from its side, ascending to a castle whose towers loomed above the land like silent guardians. Their eyes stopped at the structure. The two of them held their breaths, guessing each other’s thoughts.

“This is Hogwarts, right?” they said in unison.

They stared at each other, still unsure. A moment passed. A giant toad hopped past Harry’s soaked leg, making its way to a puddle of mud.

“Nonsense,” Draco said at last. “The lake is supposed to be… well. Right here.”

“But the castle looks exactly…”

“Yeah, and there’s the forest. It’s… on the other side. See, you can’t normally see it from the Astronomy Tower, but…”

“Have you ever seen banners hanging from the Hogwarts towers?”

“No?”

“Where the bloody hell are we?”

Draco rubbed her temples, steadying her breath. “Well then,” she said as she jumped to her feet, “let’s go explore.”

“Right,” Harry nodded.

They set out for the castle. Harry’s eyes roved around the land, absorbing every detail. Even the heather filling the field they were traversing was different, with its flowers shaped like tiny stars. The trees in the distance seemed crooked and less than friendly. And when they finally reached the road leading to the castle, the pebbles graveling it were dark like coal. Midway to the castle, Harry looked up and froze.

“We’re in a dream, right?”

“Possibly,” Draco supposed as he stared at the banner on top of what he would have thought the Gryffindor tower. His eyes found the others, all carrying the same symbol. All four dormitories, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff and Slytherin, were now united under a black banner carrying a silver serpent with emerald eyes.

“Just one question. How do we get out?”

Draco shrugged. “Apparate back to London?”

“Very funny,” Harry snorted. “Let’s just…”

“What are you two doing there?!” a familiar voice called. The two of them winced as they spotted a group of students pacing toward them. At their front walked a red-haired boy, proudly sticking out his chest adorned with the Hogwarts Prefect badge. Harry could not believe his eyes.

“Ron?”

His friend too had changed, but it could not have been anyone else. Perhaps his nose was slightly straighter, perhaps his eyes were brighter and more focused, perhaps his hair was longer and his face more handsome, but it was Ron nonetheless.

“Well, that’s what we were missing,” Draco uttered dryly, but she couldn’t hide the undertone of relief in her voice. “Ronald Weasley in flesh and bones. God knows I’m ready to cuddle some Pygmy Puff right now.”

“Well,” Ron sang as he tossed his hair, “I am certainly pleased to be so popular, but who are you and what in Salazar’s name is a Pygmy Puff?”

Harry tried to laugh off the uneasiness he felt at the name Salazar coming from Ron’s mouth. This type of humor did not suit him. “Well, Malfoy, introduce yourself.”

He earned himself a slap on the head and a snort. “Yeah, right.”

“And you are?” Ron continued his questioning. Harry paled. He threw a glance at Draco who returned his previous comment with a smirk. Now this was a situation.

“Erm, Harry Potter?” he tried. “Your best friend?”

Ron burst out in laughter and so did his classmates. “Hey Dudley,” he called, glancing over his shoulder, “someone is claiming your position here. What say you?”

Harry remained rooted to the spot. From amidst the small crowd emerged his own Muggle cousin, Dudley Dursley. He wore a wizard robe and bore a badge with the imprint of an emerald-eyed serpent. He was much thinner than Harry remembered him, and his face showed nothing of the resentment he felt toward Harry. He gave a smile so angelic that Harry felt a sudden need to vomit.

“Harry Potter, eh?” he said. “Good to know the name of my new rival. Though I don’t think you’re in a good spot for challenging others here. So here’s what we do with latecomers.”

The group raised their wands as a single man. Harry did not even need to look at their merciless faces. A second before the beams from their wands hit them, he grabbed Draco and yanked him out of their way with all his might.

“Fumos!” he yelled as he drew his wand. “Run!”

The protective smoke spread around them like a veil. Harry slid beneath the closest tree, making it his shield. Draco followed his example.

“Fumos!” they yelled again. Beams of white light flashed through the smoke. Tufts of grass flew past their faces as they ran, creating more and more smoke. They only needed to reach the forest. It would give them shelter, a chance to devise a plan, a safe haven perhaps. They ran as fast as their feet could carry them, without uttering a single word, without looking back. Then, as the forest drew near, they both stared at what was supposed to be one of the darkest places in Hogwarts.

Before them stood a quaint grove with slender birches shooting to the skies. There was no place to hide. Harry bent down, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Dream or not, I really think we should disapparate,” coughed Draco, just as breathless as Harry.

“No. We don’t know where we’ll appear. I don’t wanna end up in a splinch.”

“Then what do you _want_ to do? I see a pattern here, Potter. I offer a solution, you refuse with no second thought. I’m getting…”

“Well, yeah, the last one got us here. So please, shut it and listen to me for once.”

“Fine! Show me your best.”

Harry clenched his fists. Ron, his best friend, turning against him. And Dudley a wizard. The world around him was a twisted illusion. Yet he was still the same. He glanced over at Draco. He too remained the same. Well, not entirely, but at least on the inside. So there had to be something left of the people he knew.

_Elucidate the Riddle and you will find the truth._

He took a breath and turned back toward the castle, wand at the ready.

“Potter? What the hell?”

“We need to face them,” he said.

“Have you hit your head? There’s at least fifteen of them!”

“True. But escape is not an option.”

Draco let out a breath and raised his wand. “I do hope you have some kind of a plan.”

Harry left the question unanswered, putting up a crooked smile. There was no plan in a world whose rules he did not understand. Maybe except for waking up from the nightmare.

**Author's Note:**

> Well. That was a challenge to write and I’m not sure if I managed to beat it. Die-hard fans forgive me for not being able to write like J.K. Rowling. I’m not even an English native speaker so this gets super difficult for me, especially since I only know American English, but… I wanted to write this story. That said, I will be happy to receive any constructive criticism from you. After all, improvement is what I strive for.
> 
> Beta position is open! If any of you feels up to it, I’ll be happy to have you as my beta!  
> Hope you’ll like this story.
> 
> Mirwen


End file.
